


Less viscous mud

by SharpestRose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:11:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharpestRose/pseuds/SharpestRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The next time you get us a detention, James," said Remus. "Can it be in the library? Or the dungeons, even."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Less viscous mud

"The next time you get us a detention, James," said Remus. "Can it be in the library? Or the dungeons, even."

"'S not so bad out here," James protested. "Fresh air an' all that."

Remus' reply would have been offered in a very dry tone, if it were at all possible for anything to be dry out there in the middle of the very very muddy field with a bucket of various malignant-looking plants in one hand. "This isn't air, Prongs, this is slightly less viscous mud pretending to be air."

James rolled his eyes and muttered something about shut-in bookworms who didn't know how to enjoy the great outdoors, then swore as a bright orange leech latched on to his ankle. "I think we've got enough specimens now, let's go back and ask if we're done."

Professor Sprout, a plump young woman with cheeks like fresh apples, met them at the door of the main greenhouse.

"My word, boys, but you do look the worse for wear. Perhaps you'll think twice next time about teaching my turnips to tap-dance. Let's see your buckets, then."

She inspected them thoughtfully for a moment. "Lupin, you've got enough. Potter, another twenty minutes, I'd say."

"Oh, I'll stay and help, then," Remus offered.

"No, you won't. Detentions don't work like that, thank goodness. Neither does homework, in theory. Oh, don't look so shocked, it doesn't take much brainpower to know when one person's doing homework for two. I wouldn't even mind, if Potter wasn't more than capable of doing his own work if he made the effort."

James looked pleased at the compliment, until Professor Sprout ushered him back towards the marsh-like grounds.

"See you later then, James!" Remus called cheerfully. "Just remember, fresh air's good for you!"

One very hot bath later, Remus entered the dormitory to find a wastepaper basket on fire.

"We're roasting marshmallows," explained Peter. "Want some?"

"Er. No," Remus said, waving away the proffered cinder-on-a-stick thrust his way. "I'm right, thanks."

"Where's James?" Sirius asked, standing in a complicated unfolding of lean legs and passing his own marshmallow stick to Peter.

"Still out wading, Sprout's not letting him go anytime soon. She's been waiting for a chance to catch him ever since you two planted marbles and told the muggle-born first-years they were seeds for growing sculptures from."

Sirius barked a laugh at the memory. "Ah, well, I'm just glad she hasn't got any chance to get ahold of me, now that I've dropped Herbology. I escape capture once again! Hurrah!"

" _Do_ be careful," Remus chided lightly, ducking out of the way of Sirius's sweeping gesture of triumph. Sirius paused, as if he was about to apologise, then decided instead to catch Remus in a headlock.

"You used cherry shampoo, I can smell it," Sirius commented.

"You must be so proud of the discovery of your nose. I'll be sure to tell the papers," Remus shot back. Sirius grinned and mussed the still-damp locks affectionately.

"It's sweet, the way you think your quips are witty, it really is," he teased.

"Oi, lads, come down here and entertain me!" James' voice came up from the common room. Peter doused the basket-fire with a glass of water and followed the call, taking the marshmallows as an offering.

"He'll stink, take my word for it," Remus warned. "Padfoot, let me go or I'll headbutt you."

"Decisions, decisions," Sirius mused. "Do I risk the strawberry scented threats, or do I release my prey?"

"It's cats that play with their captives, not dogs, you prat."

"A prat, am I?" Sirius threw himself backwards, dragging Remus back onto the bed behind them so that the pair landed with a harmonised 'oof'.

"Well, sometimes. Sometimes you're just irritating," Remus said in the spirit of absolute fairness. "And then sometimes you're asleep, and other times you're... mmph.."

"Oh, good _lord_ , not again? I mean, my dad's old spaniel used to try and make it with everyone's legs, but I thought that was just because I kept putting herbs in his dinner," James' voice said. Sirius and Remus pointedly ignored him. Seconds later he landed on them.

"Can I have a kissy? Aw, come on, don't leave me out."

Remus extricated himself from underneath the tangle, grasping for the pillow at the head of the bed and weilding it with well-practised skill.

"Get off my bed, Prongs, you still smell like a swamp."

"'s just my natural wild aroma."

"Your natural aroma is a bog? Now look what you've gone and done, your walloping great skull has split my pillow."

"What _I've_ gone and..." Outraged, James retrieved a pillow of his own, and avenged his wounded pride. Peter and Sirius stood back and observed the battle for a few minutes, then decided reinforcements were needed and jumped into the fray.

"En garde!"

"For honour and glory and... er... feathers! Yeah..."


End file.
